


Hiraeth (Serendipity)

by taeminexe



Series: Serendipity [3]
Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: M/M, future set sequel, junmyeon has to deal with his anxiety and also a stalker which aint fun, sequel to serendipity, sorry for the breakup pains i promise the drama is necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeminexe/pseuds/taeminexe
Summary: A breakup, a mysterious new coworker, an increasingly aggressive stalker and an old flame - five years after the events of Serendipity, Junmyeon finally has to deal with his demons, and it isn’t pretty. Especially not when going home is no longer an option - and maybe never really was.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Series: Serendipity [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590832
Comments: 40
Kudos: 35





	1. Dear Junmyeon

**Author's Note:**

> ... hello  
> getting this sequel up took WAY longer than i thought it would so i am really really sorry about that lmao i know i promised it like three weeks ago. i struggled making the storyline come together but i got a grip on it for the time being so i think it's time... look, i'm sorry. i think i left serendipity with a nice paragraph indicating that everything was gonna be fine in the future but wheres the fun in that  
> literally gonna shut up now

_**hiraeth;**_ the longing for a home or homesickness for a place that may not even exist

“You have a knack for this, you know, Kim-san.”

Junmyeon blinked. He had to admit; paying attention was not his forte these days, and he tended to oscillate in and out of conversations with his manager at the best of times. Watanabe-san wore a look which was part stern, and part worry, as he noticed his lack of focus. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

“None more than usual,” he was stifling a yawn as he spoke. “This new schedule is just…,”

“Intense, I know. It’s not like something you’ve ever done before.”

“I can handle it.”

Time was a funny thing. Junmyeon had been in a meeting room with Watanabe-san for almost an hour, yet he barely took in an ounce of information. It seemed to pass in the same haze that the last year or so had for him; ever since things began to change again. It had been easy, for a while - Junmyeon was a regular on Golden, the television show he starred in, as normal. Despite the negative press associated with him and his castmates at his lowest point, his international popularity and the genuine love for Golden from it’s fans kept it on air until it’s natural end. It had been a year since Junmyeon filmed his last scene as magician Kun Tanaka, and started turning to other projects to keep himself busy. It was as if life had just let him get back in a comfortable routine, provided this blanket of safety for enough time to allow him to feel at ease, and then yanked it out from underneath again. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that TV shows had to end at some point, and it wasn’t a forever kind of gig - the integrity of the storyline mattered too much to everyone involved to drag it past it’s natural expiration - but it saddened him. It left him at a crossroads at a mere 28 years of age. What did he want to do next? He had movies under his belt, but nothing groundbreaking. He was probably prone to be typecast, but he also wasn’t getting any younger. Another television show might sell him short, not live up to the hype that would surround anything he did. There was no point doing something that could have comparisons drawn, he just wasn’t that type of actor. He had to keep things fresh. That’s where the small projects began falling into his lap - he voiced a character in an anime, did some reality and variety appearances, had a cameo in a critically acclaimed film; and that was what paid the bills. That wasn’t to say being an actor had become a chore. 

It just meant the lack of routine made it really damn hard to distract from everything going on around him.

“Get some rest. You have a day off, use it well. That would be my advice.”

“Mhhm.”

“I don’t just mean go stay in a hotel in the next district over for a night so you can take a bath. Go see some friends. Get on a train somewhere you haven’t been in a long time. Just come back refreshed, Junmyeon.”

“It’s easier said than done, Watanabe-san. You know that better than anyone.” 

He smiled, softly. “I know. That’s why I’m a manager, not an actor.” 

Junmyeon felt like pouting, as if he were a small child, or a naive young rookie in the industry again, but resisted the urge. He was in the winter of his twenties after all. “In all honesty, I’m just going to stay at home and drink something to soothe my throat. Seriously, I’ve never struggled so much…,”

“A challenge is just what you needed.”

“You know, I only went to the audition because I thought I’d be laughed out of the room. I never thought I’d actually be cast in a musical.”

Watanabe-san laughed so heartily that his trademark red cap atop his too-round head almost fell off. He noticed, of course, ever-meticulous about the smallest of things, and adjusted it. “By the way, just so you have a heads up - I’ll be collecting you from yours the day after tomorrow, okay?”

Junmyeon yawned. There was no use hiding it. He had been in dance classes all day, and as someone who had never danced before this week, his body was finding it difficult to adjust. It was a blessing that he possessed some level of natural flexibility and ‘clean lines’, whatever that meant. “What’s the occasion? Has my driver gone on strike or something?”

“No, actually. He is complaining about being under-worked, though, so please stop taking the subway, for the love of God.”

“Back on track, please.”

“Fine,” Watanabe-san cleared his throat. “I’ll have company. My half brother is shadowing me, starting tomorrow.”

“Your what?” Junmyeon raised his eyebrows. “Explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. His name is Toru. He’s studying public relations at university, and he’s doing his work experience with our agency.”

“Toru-chan,” he nodded, making a mental note. “What’s he like? Does he get to see my… file?”

“Your file?”

“You know. I’m your main client, right? You must have a file with all my… history. Mistakes, bad audition tapes, mental breakdowns, expose articles…,”

Junmyeon’s self deprecating humor wasn’t lost on his long suffering manager, but he chose to ignore it. “I think you’ll get along well with him. He’s a cynic, but that’s all hidden under a layer of friendly, professional demeanor. Much like yourself.” 

“I’ll look forward to meeting him.”

“Get out of here. And please, please go see your friends.”

**

Seeing friends wasn’t that easy for Junmyeon. After all, he sucked at keeping in touch with people; and holding down a relationship wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Not that Watanabe-san had any idea - Junmyeon learned to keep his personal life as private as humanly possible after what happened all those years ago. That included keeping things from his manager, even the demise of his relationship with Sehun, the thing that had threatened his career in the first place. The only person he still had on side was Yuta; and he feared this was a friendship reborn out of pity. That made his a difficult number to dial. 

Time really was strange. Junmyeon pondered this on his subway ride home, again forgetting to avail of his driver’s services. It used to be out of fear of becoming a conceited kind of celebrity; these days it was more habit that brought him from whatever studio he was working at to the nearest station without a second thought. Trains helped him think - it was his new thing, a comfort that had replaced his old escapes to hotel rooms. Watanabe-san was onto something when he suggested he take a trip on his day off. Boarding a shinkansen, getting off somewhere far away and remote, taking in the scenery of the unfamiliar place over a cup of coffee, and then turning around to return to Tokyo. It sounded like the perfect day. 

Junmyeon had to get a life.

The subway carriage was half-empty; he finished work at such a time that avoided the usual rush hour, but not so late that he’d end up wandering into last-train home territory. He thought about scrolling aimlessly through his phone, but he had deleted all of his social media apps aside from a private instagram account. This was to deter him from spending too much time looking through the profiles of people who were long, long gone from his life. There was nothing to be gained from it. He refused to fall into the same trap with Sehun that he had when he broke up with his first boyfriend, Jongin. Like, sure. He could just log into Yuta’s facebook and look through everyone’s updates, but that would defeat the purpose of cutting those people out of his life. It was for the better. The only difference between Sehun and Jongin was that this time, Junmyeon really wasn’t the victim. It was all his fault, he accepted that. He had to move on. Even keeping in touch with Yuta was a stretch - he was such a strong tie to that time in his life - but he couldn’t bring himself to lose him. He had known him the longest out of their little group, after all. Their friendship preceded all the awful stuff - and on top of it all, Junmyeon would never be able to repay him for how much he helped him get through the hardest time of his life. Yuta was proactive, he was smart, he knew how to help when things went south. He couldn’t watch a friend suffer. Junmyeon was indebted to him. Maybe he should send him a text - not now, but it was on his mental to do list for the next day. For when he was taking his shikansen trip. 

Mobile phones aside, there was something else he could read over on his trip home, and that was the modest pile of fanmail he had received from Watanabe-san before leaving their meeting. It was true that he continued to receive a heap of letters even after Golden ended, but when his agency relocated and his fan mail address thus changed with it, the number of envelopes dropped. It was almost better that way; he could actually keep on top of them that way. Watanabe-san would give him 10 or 12 to take home every few days, and he’d do his best to reply or send autographs back. It was the nicest part of his ‘work’. More organic than trying to interact with fans online, too, he felt - although he did fear that people would assume he had an assistant writing on his behalf. Junmyeon always found a little something to fret about, after all. It was in his nature. His exterior calm composure was a facade he couldn’t shake, let alone understand. He knew it didn’t make him an inherently bad person to have chronic anxiety, but he’d rather keep it to himself. Not burden anyone with yet another problem. 

There was one envelope left to open when Junmyeon arrived back at his apartment - the same apartment he had lived in since moving to this district, the one he shared with no one other than his dog, Byul. The interior hadn’t changed, nor did his habit of eating instant ramen in bed at midnight and calling it dinner. The only thing that changed was his rent. Naturally, it went up. He lived in Tokyo, what did he expect? 

Junmyeon may have been imagining it, but he felt an ominous energy from that last letter, even before he curled up in bed with his flask of herbal tea (some concoction good for the throat, to nurture the singing voice he never knew he possessed) - something had been telling him to leave it for last, for when he was alone. It was heavier than the rest. The actual envelope itself was plain, not decorated like the others. The address scrawled across the front with little care, the stamp not perfectly centered… there was something different about this. Nothing about it indicated a picture of a fan writing to their idol; Junmyeon had been in the business long enough to know that.   
“Here goes nothing,” he said to himself, and took a deep glug of tea. He wished it was wine or beer, despite having given up alcohol a while back. His reasons for doing so felt out of reach now, but it was no longer a part of his personality to go out with his friends or his boyfriend or his coworkers, so he had no reason to go back to the foul tasting liquid. 

The letter was typed; again an unusual characteristic for a fan letter. The other thing that immediately struck him as odd was that it was written entirely in Korean. Korean that could be native - most of his fans wrote in Japanese or English. But hadn’t the stamp been a local one? Perhaps that wasn’t the strangest thing; an exchange student or something like that who enjoyed some shows or movies of his that had recently aired. Golden had an international fanbase, too. It wasn’t that weird.

But the contents of the letter sure were.

_ Ah, Junmyeon-ssi,  _ it started. The opening line already made him uncomfortable. 

_ Ah, Junmyeon-ssi. Where is the time going? Look at yourself. No longer a rising star, but a prominent source of light in the sky of Japanese entertainment. Good for you, good for you.  _

_ You know, you never cease to amaze. Your variety show appearances, so full of charm and smiles. Your dramas, movies; so well chosen, always a compelling or fun story. Always a part perfect for the picture perfect foreigner stealing the hearts of the nation. Who am I to begrudge you that? After all, I’m one of the many who have fallen for your ways. Although I must admit, I get much more satisfaction, much more joy, from the little things in your life. Why should I watch you pretend to be a fictional character on screen when I can watch you, just you, being yourself in your everyday life? Maybe I’m a sad, lonely person, if I really do take such an interest in how you dressed in a green flannel and dark jeans with sensible shoes, black of course, never brown, on April 23rd. Or how you purchased two boxes of instant ramen, a can of dog food and a portion of red bean rice cakes on the 25th. Not forgetting the bottle of coke, of course, silly me. You kept the receipt, didn’t you? To remember the name of that shop, because you had never been in there before and their rice cakes looked delicious? You laughed about it with the cashier. You probably still have it somewhere. It’s okay, I have a good memory. I know you lingered over the magazines, but turned away abruptly, possibly because you saw one that had a feature on your ex boyfriend, Sehun, from the group SC. Everyone knows about that of course. Not Sehun, maybe, in as many words, but they know what way you swing, couldn’t quite explain your way out of that one when that mess came crashing down. People may have forgotten or put it aside so they can enjoy their poster boy untarnished. Don’t mistake this as blackmail - I don’t think that would work. Perhaps it could ruin Sehun’s career, though? If I shared any of the proof I have of your relationship? _

_ Just something to think about. I have nothing against Sehun, of course, so I shan’t ruin him, but it’s a sobering thought, isn’t it, Junmyeon-ssi? That someone has been watching your every move since that fiasco you had five years ago?  _

_ You’re fascinating. I hope to get to know you on a closer level soon.  _

_ It would be a shame if I stayed in the shadows when I’m really not very far away from you at all.  _

_ I hope this stays between us. I’ll know if it doesn’t.  _

_ You have my word _

_ Forever yours. _

Junmyeon had seen a lot of horror movies, but never quite felt as much as if he were stuck in the second act of Perfect Blue as he did in that moment. 

“What the fuck,” was the only appropriate response that he could muster. The tiredness won over, but it lingered on his mind as he lay down to sleep, his bedside lamp still on, unusual for him. He thought about rice cakes. He did remember that day's trip to a convenience store he had never been to. There didn’t seem to be anyone weird in the shop with him, but then again, he was often in his own little world. And how did they know about Sehun…? 

He had gotten weird fan letters before, but this barely shared any similarities with them. He never had such an intense feeling of needing to call the police, for starters. 

Junmyeon was an adult man, though. There was no way he was going to fear sharing that letter with Watanabe-san, or someone else who had more experience with artists and actors being stalked. Yuta had a stalker once, didn’t he? Maybe he could help…

Drifting off was a little too easy. But he did wake once or twice in the night, worried that someone could somehow see into his window - but that would constitute them being on a very specific floor of a neighbouring building, on a specific side, and also, his curtains were shut. 

His dreams were hazy, too. He seemed to continually repeat his breakup over and over, but each time, it felt a little more aggressive. A little more like it was his fault. And then, at some point, Sehun morphed into Jongin, and perhaps his brain was telling him something, that no one, absolutely no one, could be responsible for a letter like that other than Jongin and Minseok. If not both, definitely one of them. Ready to mess with him, revenge for him ruining Minseok’s career, maybe. He slept a little easier once he came to that conclusion. He had dealt with them before. He just had to show Watanabe-san. He’d know what to do. 


	2. Red Herrings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahhhgh thank you for the kindness, it's so appreciated.. i'm really glad the first chapter was enjoyable and intrigued u all!!!!!! it's gonna be a lot of ups and downs, thats for sure. i wont reveal literally anything but my motto for this story is as always TRUST NO ONE haha  
> sorry i didn't get this one up yesterday, but i should have chapter 3 ready for tomorrow :)

The breakup had been a long time coming. In Junmyeon’s eyes; it had been all his fault, but logically, circumstance was to blame. That thing that was always going to put pressure on a relationship even as solid as his and Sehun’s - distance. 

There were other factors, too. Secrecy, timing, careers in the public eye. Needing to learn to prioritise the right things, learning the difference between listening to one's head and one's heart. For Junmyeon, damage control became a large part of his acting career. His management and public relations team had to work hard, and he had to follow every single one of their orders. Sneaking on a flight to Seoul to meet up with his boyfriend was not always a viable option. He had fans that would follow him to airports, buy his flight information, follow him once he landed. Any travel that didn’t line up with a professional schedule was looked at with utmost curiosity and, yes, suspect from his more dedicated - obsessive - fans, or those vindictive enough to still want him to pay for being something less than the ‘perfect’ idol. While his general popularity remained intact after the incident with Minseok and Jongin, he became a victim of hate from those who couldn’t see past the implications of what personal information had leaked about him. It could get messy, but Junmyeon generally avoided contact and never, ever found himself in a confrontation at least. He just had to suck it up.

He wasn’t the only one under scrutiny. Though there were no rumors surrounding Sehun, he was also an idol - and God, did his duo group with best friend Park Chanyeol become one of the most popular musical units SM Entertainment had ever produced. They flew high with the top stars of the company within a very short time once their debut single dropped, and showed no signs of stopping. Sehun and Junmyeon were immensely proud and supportive of each other. They just assumed they could survive whatever came their way because they understood the other’s position, their lifestyles were so similar, it would be almost nonsensical to date someone who didn’t ‘get’ it. 

But little things started to get to Junmyeon. How when SxC made their Japanese debut and began to tour the major cities, sometimes twice or three times in a year, Junmyeon couldn’t just go catch a performance, hang out or spend any time with them. Sure, it wasn’t priority, touring for musicians like that was often just flight - concert - sleep - repeat; no time for socialising or seeing boyfriends or anything like that, and even if Sehun had all the time in the world to himself when he came to Japan, it still wouldn’t mean Junmyeon could just slink into civilian mode and act like a normal guy hanging with his friends. Even Junmyeon himself underestimated how big of a celebrity he was domestically. Who was he to complain, though? Wasn’t that what he always wanted? Sure, he could spout on all day about how he wanted to be an actor because he loved the art of acting, and that would be true, but who in their right mind would enter the career and stick with it so long, strategically take roles and schedule public appearances if they didn’t want to become so well known? It hurt to admit, but Junmyeon liked the attention. He just also wanted to have a private life. Have his cake and eat it, too. 

It was easy to see where things began to unravel. Phone calls became shorter and more infrequent between him and Sehun. He spent more time texting Yuta, Johnny, any of his friends from back home than actual Sehun for fear of the wrong person catching a glimpse at either of their phones. They saw each other maybe 6 or 7 times in the five years they had dated. Eventually, the hardships were too much for Junmyeon to handle. It was easier to distance himself than to lose him outright. He feared crossing Sehun, catching him on a bad day or when he was tired, just in case the topic of their relationship ever came up and they had a fight. They never fought. Junmyeon would rather keep quiet, lock himself away, allow them to get bored of their half-relationship and drift naturally. It was better for Sehun, anyway. He had to focus on his career. He was only a couple of years younger than Junmyeon, but in a completely different stage of life as a celebrity. He was experiencing his initial high and peak. That was a delicate time. He had to play his cards right; and Junmyeon hated knowing that Sehun could, and would, without a second thought, risk it all just to keep their relationship going. Sehun deserved better, and Junmyeon didn’t believe he deserved a single second of the time that Sehun gave him.

Which was all well and good. He could play the martyr and sacrifice the only thing that had ever made him feel truly happy; and he was terribly good at ignoring the fact that Sehun was probably hurt. Deep down, he knew he must be, even though he liked to imagine Sehun was relieved to be rid of him. All Junmyeon was to anyone was an inconvenience. More effort than he was worth. Why would anyone go out of their way for him, when he refused to even look after himself? 

Trains passed the time. He didn’t like to think about the breakdown of his lovelife too often, especially not whilst enjoying the views of the Japanese countryside speeding past him at an impossible pace out the window of the shinkansen to Aomori. He wasn't sure why he chose Aomori that day - he loved the north, though. One day off didn’t allow him to take a trip to Sapporo really, and besides, the point of the day was the return train journey, not the sights. His favourite actor came from Mutsu, though, so maybe there was some significance there. After all, he needed some reminding as to why he chose this job in the first place, attention seeking tendencies and an ability to do the do aside - because the breakup, a tarnished reputation, and now a weird creepy stalker on top of it all wasn’t helping him stay focused or passionate about it at all. 

Junmyeon didn’t know why, but he had brought the letter with him; the weird one he had read the night before. It was stashed securely in the zip-up pocket of his jeans. He somehow felt safer with it near him, like he was in control of the situation. Plus, if he left it lying around at home, Byul could eat it and destroy the evidence. 

Thinking of it bothered him to the point of having to take it out to read again. Something about the words, how carefully placed they were, sent chills down his spine. What did it mean? How did this guy - he assumed it was a guy, for some reason - know about him and Sehun? The secret was hard to keep, sure, but he had kept it. He was never careless, but someone was claiming to have proof so damning it could ruin Sehun’s career. There weren’t many people who knew about them. That’s what made him so sure, at first, that the only people behind it could have been Minseok and Jongin. Something just felt… a little bit off about that theory. First of all, he had no contact with them since everything came to a head. They didn’t try to hurt him back, act on any kind of revenge plans, nothing. As far as he knew, Minseok was leading a normal life, out of the spotlight, for a couple of years, then enlisted in the army. Jongin, on the other hand, re-discovered an old passion for dance, and somehow managed to pursue it. He was working as a backing dancer for SM artists. He was an obvious suspect, but… really, would he risk what he managed to build for himself? From what he heard about him, he had actually become a semi-decent person, as far as anyone could see, anyway. It must be true, too, because Yuta was designated spy where Jongin was concerned, and admitting to a sworn enemy seeming like an ‘okay dude’ would be very hard for someone who held grudges the way Yuta did. 

It would be stupid to not consider him responsible, but Junmyeon just had a gut feeling that was a red herring. Maybe the person who wrote the letter knew he’d think along those lines, too. There was only one thing he could do. 

_ Hey, Yuta. You busy? _

Not at all. Waiting for a flight out of seoul, but there’s a delay. Gonna be stuck here for hours. What’s up, myeonnie? Been a while

_ Wanna talk me through another crisis? _

Oh, boy. Shall I call?

_ Only if you have somewhere quiet to go. _

Lounge is dead. I’ll go there.

_ Where are you now? Lounge is the comfiest place past the security gates _

Bar

_ Tell Johnny I said hi _

Should I bring him?

_ Better not. Not until I get your opinion. It could be nothing to worry about. By the way, Jongins not… with you, right? _

No, he’s not working with us. He mostly works with Shinee and Taemin

_ Okay, good. _

Give me five. I’m curious now

The ring tone sounded in less than a minute. “You have the patience of a saint,” Junmyeon said, the moment he picked up the call. “Sorry for only ever hitting you up when I have something to complain about.”

“Hey, I do the same to you,” Yuta laughed it off; he never had time for his self-deprecation, which he was thankful for. Too many people tried to argue back at him when he got down on himself, and that just made him feel worse. Yuta was one of those strange people who knew how to handle him, firmly; without ever being harsh. “Talk. It’ll entertain me. I promise.”

“I’m gonna read you something. A weird piece of fan mail I got last night.”

“Ohh,” he inhaled sharply. “This sounds intriguing.”

“Before I do, the reason I asked about Jongin is because he seems like a likely suspect.”

“Seriously? What does it say?”

“But,” he continued. “The more I look at it, I really, really don’t think it’s him. I just want to know if you think the same.”

“Shoot, Junmyeon.” 

He looked around, making sure the first class carriage was still empty, as if it wouldn’t be in the middle of the day on a Thursday, when no one had any business paying an obscene price for a seat on a train to Aomori. Then, in hushed tones, he read out the contents of the now slightly-crumpled letter. 

All that followed was silence. 

“Yuta?”

“... And what makes you say that’s not from Jongin?”

“He just… just… you said he’s changed. Where would all this come from? Isn’t he, like, happy and content and living his childhood dream? Why would he screw with me half a decade later?”

“You really think people can change that much? Junmyeon, he’s insane. He’s an abusive piece of shit at best. It stinks of him.”

“Really?”

“Hey,” he softened his tone. “Why do you sound sad?”

He shrugged. “I… I just really didn’t want to point fingers at the most obvious suspect.”

“You know, if something is staring you right in the face, sometimes you do have to look back at it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means stop ignoring the obvious conclusion because you’re hoping to find something less heartbreaking to explain it away.”

“Why would Jongin being a creep be heartbreaking to me?” Junmyeon scoffed. “I’d be disappointed, sure… I always prayed he’d turn out okay. I really don’t think he was the worse guy between him and Minseok.”   
“He was pretty willing to mess you up. Just because he’s working as a backup dancer doesn’t mean he’s a good guy now. Of course he seems alright around work, you know? I don’t talk to him otherwise. I have nothing else to base that off of.”

“What should I do, Yuta?”

“Hmm…,” he paused for a moment. “I’m gonna up my spying-on-Jongin responsibilities. You should keep an eye on your fan mail, see what else makes it to you. Be really, really careful, Junmyeon.”

“Yuta?”

“Yeah?”

“The part about the convenience store trip. How could that have been so accurate if it was Jongin? What if… I have a real stalker?”

“What date was it again?”

“April 23rd.”

Yuta groaned. “That was the day before SM Town Tokyo.”

“What?”

“You know. The big concert our company does with our whole roster of artists. We were in Tokyo from the afternoon of the 23rd to the morning of the 25th.” 

Junmyeon could feel his heart rate drop. He didn’t want to believe Jongin had been responsible. In a way, he would much rather have to deal with a real, knife wielding obsessive stalker-fan than have to tarnish the image he conjured up of a reformed Jongin; the image of him that helped him sleep at night. “Yuta…,”

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear,” he said, as if he read his mind. “I’m gonna talk to Taemin.”

“Why?”

“He and Jongin are very, very close. He has no idea what he did to you, back then I mean, and I never felt right bringing it up to any of the guys he works with since they’re my seniors, but…,”

“You think he’d know if Jongin was acting weird?”

“Yeah. I wanna know if he’s ever mentioned you. What better way to find out than to intercept the best friend?”

Junmyeon nodded to himself. “Okay. WIll you let Johnny in on this?”

“Nah, he has a big mouth,” Yuta sighed. “I don’t want Sehun finding out and worrying about you. He does that enough.”

“Way to cut me deep.”

“Sorry. I had to remind you that he still cares.”

“I’d rather he didn’t.”

“You’re hopeless. But, hey. I love you.”   
“I love you too,” Junmyeon mumbled. “Take care.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I process this all in my own head.”

“Should I tell my manager about this?”

“Watanabe-san? No. No, don’t. If this really is Jongin, we need to get to him from the inside. He might start filtering your mail, and we could lose vital clues and evidence.”

“Wow, Yuta. You sound like a real detective.”

“Hey, I didn’t grow up playing Ace Attorney for nothing.”

Though Junmyeon felt reassured by his old friend once the call ended; his heart became heavier. Everything pointed to Jongin… 

He closed his eyes, swearing to clear his mind and nap for the last hour of his ride to Aomori, but his head was soon filled with half-dreams. Dreams of Jongin begging him for forgiveness. Dreams of a masked man, following him, hiding in the shadows. “Please, don’t let it be you,” he whispered under his breath, clutching the neck of his own shirt for comfort.  _ “I know you better than this. I swear, I do.” _


	3. New Friends

Junmyeon would never, ever admit this to anyone, least of all himself, but it was obvious to everyone who knew him - and by that, he meant, it was obvious to Yuta - that since breaking up with Sehun, he found himself slipping back into old habits. Those old habits included lusting after, longing for, crying over his ex-boyfriend, Kim Jongin. The good things he began to hear about him became little tendrils of hope he could cling on to. He wished every day that something would compel him to reach out and get in touch with Junmyeon - but that didn’t happen. He didn’t quite know why he wanted it so bad. It wasn’t that he was actually in love with him or anything like that, but the old comforts, the idea of going back to the start; to square one, where everything was okay and Jongin felt like home; he had never left him to move to Japan and they never broke up… it all sounded so appealing. Junmyeon still didn’t find the closure he so desperately needed to put his first love behind him. Maybe his relationships would be forever doomed until he found it. 

There was no time to think about it now, though. His day off had come and gone. He enjoyed the train ride, he saw the beautiful sight of Aomori, the furthest northern city in Japan he could make it to in one day, and then returned, home to Tokyo. When did Tokyo become home? It was always just a city he loved, a city he worked in, but never somewhere that felt safe or like he belonged there. It was just familiar. He still dreamed of moving to Hokkaido one day, after all. But somewhere in the last five years, he found his pace. It was more than just a city he knew well. It was a place that had offered the solace he needed at a time he needed it most. First, it was just a hiding place - but that day he mustered up all his courage to return to Seoul for the first time since debuting as an actor, and faced that place which he feared the most, Tokyo became more than that. It was his base. It was where he belonged. 

“I love it here,” Junmyeon found himself saying, early the next morning, as he sipped coffee from a thick white mug and gazed at the view from his kitchen-side balcony, buildings upon buildings, tall like his own apartment block. Tokyo tower in the distance. Familiar sounds. Even the air smelled right - just the way it should in early May. “I love you,” he said in the direction of the wind. “Thanks for being there for me.” 

No longer a hiding place, but his safe haven. Home.

Byul barked at his feet; a canine alarm clock, telling him that it was time to lock up the sliding doors and get ready for work. Watanabe-san would be by at 7am, and he had a new friend to make, after all. He had to at least look presentable - and the clothes he spent his rehearsal hours in did not fit the bill. The loose tracksuit pants, oversized white shirt and hoodie were already packed into his bag along with a pair of sneakers, ready to change into when he arrived at the studio. His ‘good first impression’ outfit consisted of plain, but painfully pricey, jeans, a shirt that buttoned and a long coat. He didn’t know why he was trying so hard. He barely glanced at the contents of his wardrobe these days, but the idea that he would be working closely with someone new and strange to him made him anxious - anxious enough to consider even going at his hair with gel. Junmyeon eventually decided against that, though. He couldn’t imagine hair gel and sweating profusely during a dance rehearsal would be a good combination. 

“You be quiet until your sitter comes over to walk you,” he raised his eyebrows at Byul, who hadn’t yet stopped yapping, this time at nothing in particular. “I’ll bring you home some treats, deal?”

He shrugged to himself. It wasn’t like the dog spoke Japanese. He couldn’t blame Byul for continuing to bark into the nothingness, even with the unintelligible promise of treats. 

6:57. It was time to dash. Junmyeon grabbed the finishing touch to his good-impressions outfit, his favourite watch, and made his way out of his apartment. 

**

“Good morning, sunshine,” Watanabe-san beamed at him as he slid into the backseat of the car. Well, it wasn’t so much a car as it was a limo, which Junmyeon hadn’t quite expected to be parked up down the almost shift looking side alley beside his apartment block. 

“I thought you’d take… the normal car,” he sniffed. “Good morning.” His eyes were not on his manager, however, but the stranger amongst them, sitting right in the middle, a flustered expression on his face, dark hair sticking up in every different direction imaginable; a coffee cup in one hand, and a pile of paper in his lap. “It’s nice to meet you,” he looked up at him through a pair of thick framed glasses. “You must be Kim Junmyeon. It’s an honor.”

“Not at all,” Junmyeon found himself responding shyly, holding out his hand and awkwardly shaking Toru’s free one. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“I hope I’m not intruding. I’m-,”

“Oh, I’ve told Kim-san all about you, don’t worry,” Watanabe-san cut him off, laughing casually. 

“Nonsense. All you’ve told me is his name. I didn’t even know you had a brother.” There was something strange going on - Junmyeon wasn’t that stupid; he could see the stress behind his managers smile. “I know you said Toru-chan is in college, but my, I didn’t expect him to look so young.”

“I am told I don’t look my age.”

“You two have that in common. It’s a gift, kids. Cherish it.”

Junmyeon tried to rack his brain for how old Watanabe-san was himself, but he couldn’t quite remember. He was surely approaching 40. “How old are you, Toru-chan?”

“Hm… how old do I look?” He shot back, coy, a typical game played by those meeting for the first time. 

“17.”

“I’m 22, but thank you. It helps me remember to bring ID wherever I go, if nothing else.”

The car jerked a little, and with it, some coffee splashed from Toru’s cup onto his shirt. He rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a good sign.”

“You’ll be fine,” Watanabe-san shook his head. “I know you’re nervous.”

“I promise I’m low maintenance,” Junmyeon tried to crack a joke, but it probably didn’t land well, considering Toru definitely must have heard about his history from his older brother; and that painted a picture of everything but an easy client to work with. 

“Kim-san?”

“Yes, sir?”

Watanabe-san cleared his throat. “I have some things to sort out regarding your contract before you start rehearsal today.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, no. Nothing for you to worry about. It’s mostly agency related - but I thought I’d drop you and Toru-chan off somewhere to have some breakfast and get to know each other. I think that’ll be more productive for him than sitting in on a meeting that will have very little context for someone on their first day on the job.”

Toru looked surprised, as if it was news to him, too. “You trust me with the talent already? I’m barely awake.” He seemed to have the same affliction as Junmyeon, in that he made jokes with strange timing, or that were seen by others as strange comments rather than attempts at humor. Thankfully Junmyeon recognised that common trait instantly, for he was able to react with a laugh to help him out. 

“I think you’re qualified enough to have a meal courtesy of the company credit card, yes. Get some coffee in you that won’t spill. Maybe change your shirt.”

Junmyeon caught Toru blushing. “Right. How long will you be?” He glanced at the pile of pages still on his knee. “Maybe I can make my way through some of this…,”

“What is it?” Junmyeon asked; genuinely interested. 

“Oh, it’s some notes that the agency did up for me. It’ll help me with my report.”

“Ah, you have to keep a log of your work experience for school?”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “It’s tedious. They expect us to put in the hours as if we were really employed, you know, but also have enough time to… well, anyway. I shouldn’t complain.”

“It’s amazing you got into a prestigious university with that attitude,” Watanabe-san raised his eyebrows. “You’re tired, I’ll let it slide.”

Junmyeon could do nothing to alleviate the tension; somehow bringing up the fact that he hadn’t attended university himself yet didn’t seem like it would help. “Were you up late doing school work, Toru-chan?”

“Yes, actually,” he nodded again, even more eagerly. “I have an exam in one of my business modules next week.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Toru smiled. “You seem kinder than I imagined.”

Junmyeon felt oddly satisfied by this - first impressions, so far so good. 

**

First impressions had always made Junmyeon anxious; but especially since the day he first met Minseok. After being dropped off at a breakfast cafe with his new colleague, he couldn’t help but flashback to that meeting. He had been so optimistic, so full of hope for a friendship to form between him and his co-star, but was met with hostility the moment he introduced himself. Thankfully, this morning didn’t seem like history was due to repeat itself. 

“Can I confess something?” Toru asked, once they were settled at a quiet table, away from the main floor, food and drinks in front of them. 

“Should I be nervous?” Junmyeon sipped his large mug of green tea. 

“No, I don’t think so,” he laughed. “I was scared. To meet you, I mean. You’re a really big deal; I was kind of not expecting to be… working with someone actually in the public eye. I thought maybe some rookie, or being stuck into the office for half a year.”

“Your brother must trust you.”

“I guess. It’s an amazing opportunity. Plus, I guess I get to practice not being star-struck. That’d kinda suck if I was to make it in public relations, right?”

“It’d be a hindrance, I think,” he smiled at him, kindly. Toru was only a kid. Despite nerves, he was holding his own very well. “I can see you have what it takes, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re personable. You’re willing to deal with the nitty gritty. Watanabe-san always says this is the hardest part of the job, you know, when he complains to me.”

Toru laughed suddenly, choking on the piece of fruit he had just begun to chew. “He really does that?”

“Oh, it’s rare, but not as rare as you might think. You’ll probably see a whole new side to your brother, I imagine.” 

“Wow. I mean, I don’t see much of him, I mean… the age difference, you know?”

Junmyeon nodded. “I was going to ask, but… I mean, it’s not like it’s weird or anything, just unusual. He never even mentioned you! Or anything about his family life, don’t get me wrong.”

“We have a strange relationship. It’s probably too much for a light conversation over breakfast.” Toru sighed, setting down his glasses, presumably so he could drink his tea without them steaming up. A struggle Junmyeon knew only too well - thankfully, he had come around to using contacts in the last couple of years. 

“I don’t mind, you know…,” he said, softly. “We could start with something else, though. If you want.”

“Is there anything else you want to know? I mean, I’m not actually that interesting. I think my boss probably wants me to be picking your brain, you know, so you can help with my assignment.”

“I’ll happily help with all that, don’t worry. I have time,” Junmyeon smiled. “Why the entertainment industry? I mean, there’s so many branches of PR.”

“Ooh,” his eyes lit up. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“I won’t judge if you say it’s for the glamour, or the money, or just a genuinely morbid obsession with celebrity. That’s completely normal.”

“Nah, it’s not really anything like that. I… okay, you don’t know me, so you have no reason to laugh at me when I tell you this, but I wanted to be a musician, growing up.”

“Woah, really? Like an idol or something?”

“No, I thought I was really good at guitar,” he grimaced. “I wrote songs. All the time. When I turned 15, my Mom sold my stuff and told me to focus on school work.”

“Wow.”

“We really struggled with money. I always promised her I’d write songs that would make us millions. She… she never praised me, you know? Now that I’m in university, the top one in the country at that, she’d confessed that she just didn’t want to give me a big head. That I was talented, but the industry didn’t reward pure talent, and she didn’t think I had what it takes to make it. I’m not very thick skinned, you know. I’m not handsome, either.”

Junmyeon listened, trying not to react at those words, even though he felt like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull at the idea that the guy sitting across from him didn’t consider himself ‘handsome’. 

“By then, I was so out of practice with music, songwriting, all that… I mean, I’ll never catch up to others my age. So I decided to focus on PR. It’d let me work in the entertainment industry. Help people with talent just… manage the hard stuff, so they can focus on what matters.”

“Wow,” Junmyeon repeated. “I’m sorry, you know. Sounds like your teens were tough.”

“They were,” Toru shrugged. “You know, my Mom and brother weren’t close while I was growing up. He was hostile towards her. And me. I think you can probably tell things are still kind of awkward.”

“Don’t worry, Toru-chan. I won’t pry.”

“I’ll tell you someday. I just have a habit of revealing my life story to everyone I meet, and it’s come back to bite me. I’ve been warned to be careful.” 

“Well, I hope I can prove myself trustworthy. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, right? Especially if I’m helping you with your school work. Come on, talk me through what you wanna know. I’m yours for the next two hours.”

**

_ Hey myeon. Just wanted to let you know i spoke to taemin. Text me back when you’re free _

That was quick?? Tell me, I’m all ears. In the middle of rehearsal, but i’m on break. 

_ You get breaks? _

Honestly, you idols wouldn’t know yourselves in my profession. 

_ I’d probably get bored. Anyway, I didn’t intend on asking Taemin about Jongin, we were just catching up. But I just thought I’d tell you that Taemin really, seriously wouldn’t stop talking about him. I didn’t mention him once. _

So they’re… close-close?

_ I think they’re as close as me and Johnny are, if you catch my drift. _

What makes you say that?

Junmyeon’s stomach turned, a knot forming in the base of his throat at that message. Was Yuta serious? Could that be? 

_ I’ve known him a very, very long time. He talks a lot about someone when he likes them. I could be wrong, but if nothing else, he has a crush. _

Is that good or bad?

_ I don’t think we’ll find anything shifty out about Jongin from his biggest fan. Not like this anyway. _

You sound like you have a plan

_ If Jongin has really reformed and become oh so sweet backing dancer Kai, then surely he wouldn’t oppose to a double date  _

Wow, Yuta

_ Ballsy, right? _

Very

_ You haven’t shown anyone the letter, by the way, right? _

Of course not. It’s safe at home. In the pocket on my comfy jeans.

_ Good. I’m nervous for you, hyung.  _

I’m trying to focus on work and not think too hard about it. 

_ Text me if you get anything else, got it? _

Right. Hey, can I ask you something?

_ Sure _

You’re not gonna tell… Sehun, right?

_ Why would I worry him like that? _

I know you won’t. I just really don’t want this to bleed into his life. He’s had enough of my shit the last five years. He doesn’t need it now we’re broken up.

_ I won’t tell, myeon. But you should reconsider cutting people out who care about you _

I didn’t cut him out, we broke up

_ Keep telling yourself that. It’s none of my business. You just frustrate me sometimes, Junmyeon. I love you, though _

You too. Thanks for helping me… as always. 


	4. Let's Talk About Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (thanks for the love as always, guys <3 just to clear up about junmyeons age; he was 22 in serendipity (sehun was 20), in this he’s 28 (we’re talking in korean ages for the korean characters but if i’m mentioning ages of the japanese ocs or anything it’d be international age) - it doesn’t really matter that much but i thought i’d point it out for the sake of clarity hahahaha (also junmyeon hasnt returned to korea to do his military service yet which isn’t really a spoiler its just something i’m keeping in mind for the timeline of his career)
> 
> Also i just want to address the delay in updating - first of all, i am genuinely SO sorry. it's been a time
> 
> I’ll try get back on track instead of spending my days listening to nct on repeat and staring at my wall LMAO
> 
> Hopefully spending time with junmyeon in this fic can help us all get through missing him by the way, but how healthy and handsome did he look in his update photo from training? I’m super proud of him! It just feels so weird to have him officially gone. I suddenly just want to skip to 2022 haha, but I’m gonna stop talking about it and pretend its not happening. We’re used to missing the boys, we’re exo-ls after all!

“Girl trouble?”  
Junmyeon jumped; swiftly throwing his phone into his pocket at the vaguely familiar voice. When he looked up, he breathed a sigh of relief; it was only Toru-chan, holding out the cup of coffee he had been expecting. “Sorry I scared you. You looked deeply troubled.”  
“It’s nothing like that,” Junmyeon grimaced. “Thanks for this. Sorry you got landed on drinks duty.”  
“Hey, it’s no big deal. I’d rather be getting coffee in exchange for sitting in on a cool meeting than babysitting.”  
“Okay, one, schedule meetings - not cool. Especially not just after a long day of rehearsal,” he laughed. “Two, you still babysit?”  
“I told you. I’m young. I don’t get paid for hanging out with you all day, you know,” Toru grinned. “Come on. Bring that up to the meeting room with you, and you can tell me all about your girlfriend when we’re done.”  
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
“That intense stare? Looks like relationship drama.”  
The ‘intense stare’ in question had just been Junmyeon’s pained look as he waited for an update - any update - from Yuta regarding what was going on, but there was no way he could explain it away, not honestly or otherwise. “There’s no relationship for me to have drama over. I’m a free man these days.”  
“I guess I’m in luck.”  
Junmyeon’s head snapped up again, but before he could figure out if Toru was joking or not, he had hopped out of the cafeteria as quickly as he’d appeared. What a strange guy.

  
_I’m gonna be in a meeting for the next while so sorry if I don’t text you back_ He tapped out a quick message to Yuta, just in case, even though he wasn’t sure what he should be expecting. It wasn’t like his world revolved around Junmyeon and his little problems.

The meeting in question was pointless, like most, but he couldn’t help noticing how intensely engrossed Toru was in his borther's words, his pen scribbling left and right across many scraps of paper as he took notes - every little thing Watanabe-san said was like gospel to him; he hung onto every word and nodded as he wrote, even the most mundane things. He seemed eager to learn. Watanabe-san didn’t seem to be making it easy for him, either. He didn’t talk directly to him, didn’t look to see if he had any questions… honestly, Junmyeon couldn’t focus on anything but the uncomfortable relationship that seemed to exist between the two men. All he could do was sip cup after cup of terrible instant coffee (the Starbucks Toru had brought him lasted a mere five seconds), and agree when he had to agree. That's what his job had becoming - when he was starring in Golden, he didn’t have to suffer through days as long as this. Sure, filming was tough, but it beat days of classes, rehearsals, and meetings, be it cast and crew, or just with his manager and various staff at the agency. There wasn’t much to talk about when Junmyeon was working on one, long term project, like a television show - but this was a different ballpark entirely. He’d honestly never seen as much of Watanabe-san in his life.  
“You good to wrap things up for today, Junmyeon?”  
He blinked. “Yeah, of course. That’s all… fine, for me. Toru-chan, do you have any questions?” He made a point to draw attention to the eager student, clearly desperate to prove himself in his new position, but he shook his head, beaming, gathering up his notes.  
“I’m sure I can manage.”  
“You have a wad of literature to see you through, I guess,” Junmyeon offered him an encouraging smile.  
Watanabe-san cleared his throat. “I’ll be off, then.”  
He couldn’t leave fast enough, quickly snapping shut his briefcase, placing his signature cap back on his head and throwing his coat over his shoulders. The only thing he left behind was a stack of envelopes - fanmail. Junmyeon’s stomach churned, wondering if within that pile lay something as sinister as a few days before, but he tried to shake off those thoughts. He could worry about that later - when he was home, and could talk to Yuta, maybe. If nothing else, he couldn’t let on anything was wrong while Toru was still around. That was rule number one - don’t tell anyone.  
“I assumed you guys would travel home together,” he started conversation instead, partly because he needed a distraction himself, but also partly because Toru looked unsure of what to do with himself. “Did he sort you out with your own transport, or…?”  
“Oh, I’ll be taking the train. I don’t live that far away…,”  
“Where do you live?”  
“Technically? Chiba.”  
Junmyeon raised his eyebrows. “That’ll take 2 hours at least! I don’t envy you.”  
“I have time to do some schoolwork. Honestly, it suits me.”  
“Where does your brother live?”  
“Funabashi.”  
“I thought so. He could at least take you that far.” Junmyeon wasn’t sure what he was gaining from this; it really was none of his business, but his curiosity overwhelmed him in moments like these. “You might want to hurry up, in case you miss the last train.”  
Toru nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”  
“Yeah. Take care of yourself.”

With the intimidating stack of fanmail stuffed into his bag; Junmyeon felt like he was carrying around a concealed bomb. He kept it clutched to him, securely, but didn’t dare to look; not until he was in the privacy of his own home. It was late. He had never minded being out and about after nightfall; Tokyo was his home. His safe place. It was as safe at the crack of dawn as it was at midnight. In the last few years, though, an uneasy feeling began to fester in the pit of his stomach. The streetlamps, the quiet, the loneliness; it reminded him of the night he escaped his apartment at lightning speed, Minseok’s phone in his possession, about to uncover the secrets that would unravel the steady foundation he had finally begun to build his life upon. That had been a difficult night - reliving those memories, coupled with a deep paranoia that he was being watched? Yeah; Junmyeon wanted to get home as soon as possible.  
Incessant barking, the kitchen light he forgot to turn off, the stifling warmth of a small Tokyo apartment. That was more like it.

It was meant to be a normal night. How he ended up on the phone to his ex boyfriend of almost a decade before the new day even rolled in was a mystery. But Junmyeon had always been weak. 

**

At 11:30pm, Kim Jongin was taking a well deserved break from one of his regular late-night dance practices. He crashed to the floor in a heap, music still blaring from the other side of the room, but he was too tired to care; the song would loop for hours on end until he physically stood up and plugged out his CD player. He was probably one of the only people in the world who still used something as ancient as a portable CD player, but there was something about it that reminded him of his childhood; dancing in the spare bedroom on the top floor of his house; discreetly, though his moves were so precise, so powerful that he was sure to come crashing through the floorboards some day. He hid his passion; not that he had any reason to - there was no shame in it, his mother had told him time and time again after discovering his talent. Perhaps that was just because he was so exceptionally gifted (her words, again - Jongin insisted it was nothing but hard work and dedication, natural ability played no factor) that he was bound to make a great living off of it, better than the army, or anything else he could have done to make his family proud of him.

It was a miracle that Jongin even heard his phone ring over the looping track. It wasn't like he was expecting a call - the only reason anyone would even try to contact him so late would either be a lonely friend in need of company (Taemin), or his roommate, warning him that he better have his key with him for once, because there was no hope of him waiting up for Jongin to get home. 

“Hello?” He blinked, confused as he picked up. The caller ID revealing nothing. “This is Kim Jongin.”

“Don’t ask how I got your number,” an almost-familiar voice sounded back. “You won’t like it.”

It couldn’t be. They hadn’t spoken in years. But if you removed the standard garbled-effect a phone call had on the human voice, whom it belonged to was unmistakable. 

“Junmyeon?”

“I need to ask you something.” 

“Is it really you?”

"Do I need to give you a password, or something...?" His old dry-humor; a bad joke delivered with complete deadpan to the point where it didn't even sound like he was trying to make a joke. Yeah, it was Junmyeon - sounding slightly beaten, weathered - older and tired; but it was him. A familiar feeling of the muscles in his throat and chest clenching together took over, the one that hadn't quite subsided since they were teenagers. 

"Are you okay?" Was all Jongin could muster, because that's what he needed to know. Why had he called; was he in danger? Was he afraid of something? Was he... drunk? He must be, why else would he call?

Junmyeon took a deep breath. "I need you to be honest with me, Jongin."

"You're scaring me a little, here. What's up?"

"You... you haven't been... trying to contact me, have you?"

Jongin bit his lip; not knowing what he was talking about. Sure, he'd thought about it, a million times. Writing to him, sending a birthday card, something simple, but the damage he had done was too much. He didn't deserve to even think about rekindling a friendship, not after helping Minseok with his stupid, childish plan to destroy Junmyeon and everything he had ever worked for. "No. I haven't...,"

"What about Minseok?"

"Minseok? Christ, Junmyeon, I haven't even heard what's become of him. What's going on?"

"Fuck." 

"Myeon?"

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this, I'm sorry. Forget I called-,"

"Junmyeon, don't you dare hang up."

He paused. "I have to. Yuta's calling."

"Can you call me back? Tomorrow, even? I know it's getting late."

"I probably shouldn't."

Jongin shook his head; was this some kind of fever dream? If Junmyeon hung up now, with no explanations, no promises to get back in touch, then how would he even know this really happened? "I miss you." It was pathetic. Words so stupid, so desperate that he could do nothing but whisper them. "Please call me again."

"Alright."

The line went dead. Jongin sunk back against the wall, slumping until all but his head lay flat on the ground; and then closed his eyes. Maybe he would just sleep there tonight. His dance studio was as much of a home as he had ever had, the only place he felt needed, or wanted. The only place he could drown out his mistakes and dance until every bone and muscle in his body ached, penance for the pain he had caused others. 

He didn't deserve Junmyeon's promise to call, but he held on to it anyway as he drifted off to sleep. The music didn't bother him; a soundtrack to his one track mind. 


	5. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for welcoming me back with open arms! I swear, from now on, if you don't hear from me at least twice a week you have SERIOUS permission to bonk me on the head haha. i'm back, I have a laptop, a slightly better headspace, and lots of time.   
> I at least have the storyline mapped out now, so you guys can officially start looking for hints.

A warm, wet sensation awoke Junmyeon from his near-restless slumber the next morning - it took him a minute to detach himself from dark, twisted dreams of darkened streets and taunting whispers, and realise it was just Byul, furiously licking his face to remind him to get up already and open the balcony door because it was way past a certain someone's pee time. He sighed, and rolled over, willing his eyes to open - thank goodness he’d housetrained the dog; usually, the balcony would be slightly ajar at all times when he was in the house, to let the air in, but he wasn’t taking any chances while he was asleep from now on, not while there was a stalker on the loose.

That all sounded very dramatic; even to Junmyeon, but there was no other way to put it - a glance to his nightstand told him all he needed to know. The newest letter that had been stashed away in that block of fanmail, the contents which he’d read and reread, first in sheer panic, and then with scrutiny, leading him to…

His eyes then befell his phone right next to him. No. Oh no. “Byul…,” he said, turning to his dog, tail wagging impatiently, pawing at his duvet. “Please tell me I didn’t call who I think I called last night.”

A bark. Byul didn’t care, of course. Junmyeon sighed. “Alright, come on. Let’s get some breakfast.”

Two creepy letters shouldn’t immediately make him fear a home invasion, he knew that, but he still stood guard of the balcony until Byul had eaten and done her business in the fresh air, and immediately closed the door after. He’d just turn on the fan for the remainder of the day, the electricity bill didn’t really matter, it wasn’t even Junmyeon who saw the utilities bill at the end of the month. His privilege certainly gave him an advantage in situations like this; not that he ever banked on such a specific perk as being a good reason to become a world famous actor. Really, it was just about the work. 

So why was he dreading actually  _ going  _ to work?

**

“You’re such a good singer, Jun,” Toru ran up to him as soon as the director called for a ten minure break; a huge grin on his face, holding out - as usual - a cup of Starbucks, not coffee this time, but an ice cold Strawberry Frappuccino. It was the kind of day where the sun felt poisonous, like it would burn right through you even in the areas where the light didn’t quite reach. It was unusual for summer to hit with such ferocity before even Junmyeon’s birthday had rolled around, and it certainly wasn’t the most ideal weather conditions to spend all day inside a rehearsal studio preparing a musical - but thank God for Starbucks. He accepted the venti sized refreshment with the most grateful look he could muster up. 

“Of course I am,” he joked. “Didn’t you see the musical episode of Golden? I was a hit.” As Toru laughed, probably a little too hard, he took a long sip, instantly relaxing his shoulders. The sweat was pumping from every pore, his eyes stung, his hair was plastered to his head. He wore nothing but a vest and shorts, but even these felt sticky already, and they’d only been in practice for three hours. It wasn’t even midday yet. 

“I didn’t know you did your own singing. You’re full of surprises, what can I say?” 

They both wandered to the back of the studio and pulled open the double doors, which led out to an enclosed kind of patio. It was the biggest perk of the building, by far - the natural light was blinding, but the sun loungers and umbrellas that had been organised for the staff after seeing the weather forecast warn of a heatwave were a welcome treat. They took to two side by side; and the moment Junmyeon lay down and let his muscles sink into the strong canvas, he knew he’d regret choosing to relax when he was called up to resume work. 

“I should have slept more last night,” he sighed, mostly to himself, still sucking at his drink every few seconds, draining it quicker than he would have liked.

“Me too, but I didn’t get home until super late, and - well, school work.”

“Didn’t get much done on the train, then?”

“I did! Just not much in, you know, comparison to what else had to be done.”

“I do have vague memories of school, you know. I was super stressed over my finals. I can’t imagine how much worse studying at a top university is in comparison to high school exams,” he shuddered. 

“Yeah, it’s tough. Can’t have been easy doing school and acting, though, could it?”

Junmyeon blinked. “I didn’t actually join an agency until I finished school. I forget not everyone knows that! Most people assume just because I’m an actor and never went to university, it means I’m not, y’know, educated.”

“Goodness, I shouldn’t have assumed! I heard most people in the entertainment industry in Korea train very young.”

He nodded. “That’s true. I did classes, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t join an entertainment company. A lot of my friends are idols, though - they’d be the ones who had the really hard school years you’re thinking of. I just got lucky, I came straight to Japan after landing this role.. I mean, the role I had on Golden,” he quickly corrected himself. “Man, that show was my life for so long. I really don’t know who I am now it;s over!” He said it jokingly, but Toru seemed sad to hear it all the same. He reached over and patted his knee, reassuringly. 

“You’ll make just as big of a name in something else. This could be it, you know.”

“It’s not really about that,” Junmyeon tried to explain, as carefully as he could. “The fame is… I mean, I’ve reaped the rewards, right? I’m living comfortably and did good work that I was proud of. I can now pick and choose to take jobs that I might enjoy, or that will satisfy me, without worrying about the scale. That’s what I think, anyway.”

Toru looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening, then lowered his voice. “My brother… keep this between us, but I don’t think he sees it that way.”

Junmyeon grimaced. “He lectured me about my way of thinking already, don’t worry.”

“But why? I agree with you!”

“Yeah, but he wants to make money. So he wants me in things that will bring in a lot of money.”

“But surely anything that your name carries will automatically become a big deal?”

“That’s what this was about,” Junmyeon gestured around vaguely; referring to the musical. “See how ticket sales and hype and stuff works once my name is announced as the leading role. If it’s a comparative flop, it’s only a few months of work, not a big commitment. We call it a compromise.”

Toru looked like he was trying to process this information a little too strenuously, but before he could ask something that looked to be on the tip of his tongue, the director called for Junmyeon to take his place. “Sorry, that’s me up,” he jumped out of his lounger. “Thanks for the drink, can we organise one for lunch? Or maybe go for ice cream!” 

**

No less than three further frappes were delivered right into Junmyeon’s desperate hand before lunch time was even called for; and as soon as it was, Toru practically grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the studio and towards the car, where his driver was already waiting for them, of course. “Dude,” Junmyeon laughed, out of breath and sweating more than ever. “I really need my change of clothes…,”

“I already brought your bag, look,” he pointed to a rucksack stashed neatly on the ground. “You can get changed in here when we arrive.” 

“Any reason you’re kidnapping me?”

“You said you wanted ice cream, and brother dearest is going to have a word with someone about air conditioning?” 

Junmyeon groaned. “He’s gonna make me sound like such a diva.”

“It’s almost 38 degrees in shade, Junmyeon. You’re not a diva for not wanting you and the entire cast to pass out from heat exhaustion. What else is a manager for?”

“I guess,” he sniffed. “This can’t be fun for you, dude.”

“Hm?”

“I mean, this is hardly public relations.”

“No, but it’s the best work experience that was available. Plus, I think artist management would be my dream job, PR is just the closest qualification that might get me taken seriously in an interview.”

Junmyeon nodded. “Well, I’ll write you a good reference.” 

Lunch would have been a calming affair - sun, a shaded outside table full of salads, ciabatta sandwiches, sushi rolls and non alcoholic fruit cocktails, and good company in the form of a Toru who was becoming more comfortable with Junmyeon and his ways the more time they spent together - were it not for the incessant ping of Junmyeon’s phone. “I should have thrown this away a long time ago,” he joked, apologising for what felt like the hundredth time for the rude interruption. He could never leave it on silent or turn it off completely during working hours, Watanabe-san would have a fit. 

They were all messages from Jongin. Of course they were - he couldn’t blame him for being confused, he’d really fucked up by calling him the night before. He would have talked to anyone about what he saw in that letter… but the moment he heard Jongin’s voice, he knew he couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t reveal that he even suspected him for a second. Junmyeon knew in his heart that there was no way on earth he would do that to him, not now. That’s why even when he ended the call as Yuta came on the other line, he brushed him off, pretending he hadn’t actually received anything else threatening. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

“I won’t be offended if you text someone, you know,” Toru said, softly. “You’re staring forlorn at the screen.”

“Am not,” he muttered. “Sorry, it’s just… an ex.”

“Have a lot of those?”

“Uhm… two,” he figured he may as well be honest with the man who was taking care of his personal affairs while his usual manager ran about bossing anyone he could around. “But this ones a really old ex. God, maybe… maybe a ten years ago kinda ex.”

“A decade and he’s still giving you trouble?”

Junmyeon shook his head in defence. “Not trouble! He’s… it ended on good terms. We’re friends.”

“And you want to be more?”

“I never said that.”

He was pretty sure he had no interest in or intention of getting back together with Jongin; it was a strange regression thing that was going on in his mind. Since he broke up with Sehun, the thought of Jongin was more comforting than reliving those painful memories ever would be. Plus, he was pretty sure Sehun was now otherwise occupied. Yuta insisted it wasn’t true, but Junmyeon had ‘accidentally’ seen rumors on some kind of gossip website of him being on a date with a fellow idol, a member of some relatively successful girl group, so to Junmyeon it felt like he really had closed the book on that chapter of his life. If it was that easy for Sehun to potentially move on, maybe he could, too.

He looked at Toru. Jongin probably wasn’t the answer, but someone else might be. “I’m definitely gonna be too full for ice cream,” he started, taking a bite out of his cheesy ciabatta. “But we should come back here later, maybe? The parlour looks amazing. I don’t wanna miss out. Plus, we won’t be on a timer.”

Toru laughed. “Okay, I’m running on minus hours here. I’m trying to do 24 hours of work in the space of about 12 today.”

“Hmpf,” Junmyeon pouted. “You can’t bring your schoolwork and do some here? I’m bored without, y’know… people I don’t work with.”

“You do work with me.”

“You don’t count. You’re like… normal, and stuff. Just a good, interesting human.”

“I can take the compliment,” he smiled. “But I still can’t. I’m babysitting - again - tonight; which involves me sitting in my childhood home while my aunties insufferable children sleep, and praying they don’t wake up.”

“You never stop!”

“At least I don’t have to leave Tokyo tonight. We didn’t grow up far from the city.”

Junmyeon’s eyes lit up. “Do you want company? We can get ice cream to go!”

He could clearly tell Junmyeon was desperate for a friend; he smiled softly and nodded. “It’s a plan.” 

***

Junmyeon took one glance at the letter that had shook him so hard last night, hidden in the depths of his bag, before taking a deep breath, crumpling it up and tossing it into the paper waste bin before leaving the studio that evening. He wasn’t even going to give it a single thought. 

He had better things to do than be spooked by some words on a page. Someone was trying to mess with him, for sure, but he refused to over analyse it anymore. After all, the more he read it, the harder it was to convince himself Jongin and or Minseok weren’t involved. 

_ Junmyeon. Good, you got my letter, I trust. Now you know you aren’t alone. But you never really have been, have you? All eyes on you since you were barely old enough to board a plane for yourself. How does it feel to have everything handed to you on a silver platter?  _

_ How do you live with yourself knowing all you do is complain? _

_ You need to learn to appreciate what you have, Junmyeon. You had a good boy who adored you back in Seoul; you left him - for selfish reasons. You entered into a relationship with another a few years later, you left him too. Got too hard, did it? You tell yourself you can’t accept happiness, you push people away, you’re a poor, damaged soul who just needs saving. Really, you just weren’t getting the attention you did at the start, isn’t that right? Sehun cared so much about you when there was a reason to worry. Maybe if he knew what I was planning, he’d give a shit.  _

_ Maybe then he’d be useful to you again, hey? _

_ But I jest, I don’t plan on hurting you, Junmyeon. You have something I want after all. As you crave the attention of whatever man will make you feel validated, I crave your affection. How come you don’t look at me like you look at Sehun? At Toru? _

_ Do I cross your mind, Junmyeon? What am I to you? _

_ I’ll speak to you sooner than you think.  _


	6. Memories

Babysitting was weird; Junmyeon had decided. There was a lot of responsibility attached to something that generally required very little effort. If Toru’s youngest cousins were terrors, he saw no evidence of it - they were sound asleep by the time he rocked up, about half an hour behind Toru, having volunteered to grab sushi and ice cream and then meet him at the house. The address was in an area that he was vaguely familiar with, not that it mattered, because his driver, who he now called the Mastermind of Tokyo City, seemed to know the absolute quickest route from the cafe to the Watanabe family home. It was weird, he thought, being somewhere that was so closely connected to his manager. He really knew very little about his life, and even less about how he and Toru were somewhat related. 

The house in question was quaint; looking small from the outside, but even more cramped once inside. It was almost like whoever designed the building had tried to fit too many rooms; the amount of doors and walls enclosing tiny spaces created an almost claustrophobic atmosphere, despite how homey it was decorated - Toru explained that his mom, aunt and her two kids were the current occupants, but many Watanabe relations and offspring had passed through since Toru moved out. There were tapestries and cheap paintings on every wall, any sofa was filled with cushions of a variety of clashing colours. Every room was soundtracked by a tick-tock, tick-tock, courtesy of tacky clocks. 

“I love it,” Junmyeon grinned. Toru was obviously a little shy, judging by how he apologised for the perceived ‘mess’ of the place. It was different from the usual open-plan layout of most Tokyo apartments, and that was refreshing. It didn’t look like a typical Japanese family home; or a Korean one for that matter. He’d never been in such a quirky house. 

“It’s awesome, seriously,” he laughed, falling down onto the main sofa - four seats wide, foot rests at the ready, in front of a large TV (decorated with a glittery antenna, of course). “Watanabe-san grew up here?”

Toru spluttered. “You should have seen it when me and him were kids! Especially when we had to share a room… God,” he sighed. “You’d have a heart attack. My Mom is a hoarder, not in a super worrying way, she just loves everything bright and cheap and tacky and unique, you know? Brother dearest didn’t let her display that crap. All the stuff you see on the walls and in cabinets was once just stored in boxes, ceiling high in the third bedroom.” 

“So as soon as he moved out…?”

“That’s when it became a home,” Toru nodded. “Hey, remember that story I was telling you about the guitar?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, it was my birthday last month, but my Mom said that she’d sent away for my gift and it was taking a while to arrive. Guess what she got me?”

“A guitar.”

“The most beautiful I’ve ever seen in my life. She showed it to me just before she and my aunt left - look, I’ll grab it!”

Junmyeon watched as his new friend’s eyes lit up, grabbing a black guitar case from the corner of the room, unzipping it to reveal the most fantastic dark-wood instrument - even he was impressed. 

“She said she felt… you know. Bad, about selling mine when I was just a kid.”

He nodded. “Have you had a chance to play it?”

“No! I’m terrified. I’ll have to take it back to my place; tune it up and see what happens. It’s been so long,” he grinned. “Don’t worry though, as much as I love it, I won’t stray from my career path. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” Honestly, Junmyeon had enough musician friends, so even though he said it jokingly, there was an air of truth in that. 

“I don’t suppose you ever had to earn your keep babysitting, if you started acting so young?”

They settled in with their ice creams; television was on low in the background, some game show that Junmyeon never quite understood. He shrugged at this; he’d not had relatives to look after as a teenager, but it wasn’t quite his first time experiencing the joys of someone else's fridge for the night. 

“Unless you count like, my second date with my first boyfriend.”

“Romantic.” 

“Not quite,” Junmyeon laughed. “It was… you know. Teenagers being teenagers.”

Honestly, at the time, it had felt romantic, spending a domestic night in with Jongin - not unlike him and Toru now, they sat on a comfy couch, barely inches apart, laughing, joking - there was something about that moment that Junmyeon always willed himself to remember, to never forget. The feeling of complete peace, serenity, a privacy that he knew was something to be cherished. If it was hard to be himself and comfortable in a relationship with a boy even now; back then, it was the most frightening thing ever. Those nights were a glimpse at normality for him and Jongin. 

He shook it off. He didn’t want to be that guy - mourning a relationship ten years later. It was stupid. He was just regressing. It was much, much easier to think about that pain, than acknowledge his more recent breakup. 

***

_ Where do you belong, Junmyeon? It’s not there, it’s not here. How could it be that you’ve never found your home? _

_ Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right places.  _

Minseok glanced at the page, letting out a low huff of disgust. “You’re nuts,” he said, out loud, to no one in particular, because the author of the letter was hardly around to hear him. “I can’t believe I’m doing your dirty work…,”

He knew Junmyeon wasn’t home; but he still jumped when he heard Byul’s incessant barking as he approached his apartment door. Thank God his building had CCTV blind spots - and thank God the CCTV they did have was practically useless. He knelt down and slid the letter, unsealed, unsigned, neatly printed, under the crack of the door frame. Hopefully the dog didn’t eat it before Junmyeon had a chance to get spooked. Not that he cared - he got the cash for this whether he saw the letter or not. 

“He does deserve this,” he continued to talk out loud. He didn’t know who he was convincing. Was helping someone terrorise the man really what he wanted to be doing? Sure, he needed the money. He wasn’t gaining anything else. Any resentment he held towards Kim Junmyeon subsided as he grew older. He didn’t crave revenge for his best friend, he didn’t have the urge or the desire to play mind tricks. He couldn’t care less; he’d learned his lesson tenfold.

But a job was a job. And Junmyeon was the reason that he was ousted from the entertainment industry. Well, from the on screen side of things, anyway.

***

Junmyeon never called again; but Jongin’s heart still stopped in his chest whenever his phone rang, because what if? What if he’d respond to a text, tell him a little more about what was going on? He can’t have made up their interaction.

He saw the call history, after all. It had happened.

Eventually, he was left with no other option - he had to talk to Yuta, the only person he knew well that he was sure was still in touch with Junmyeon. Yuta, as always, was two steps ahead of him. 

“Jongin-hyung!” 

Yuta was getting ready to leave the studio for the day when they ran into each other - although they often worked similar hours and it wasn’t unusual, he still blinked in surprise. “Yuta, I was hoping I’d…,”

“I need to talk to you.”

He couldn’t protest. Junmyeon had definitely told him they’d spoken - and Yuta was hell bent on giving him a lecture to not indulge him, to not even think about entering back into his life. Sure enough, there was nothing he could do but follow the stern looking boy out the side exit of the building, and tentatively sit down on a bench beside him, waiting for the thunder.

Yuta raised his eyebrows, keeping his voice level. “I have a funny feeling that you’ve been talking to someone you shouldn’t be.”

“That’s why I was hoping I’d run into you.”

“Is that right?”

“He called me last night. I’m worried about him.”

“Why?”

Jongin blinked. “He sounded distressed. He kept asking if I’d tried to contact him at all recently, and I had no idea why he was asking, and then he just hung up because you were calling…,”

“Yeah, and he brushed me off.”

“Oh?”

“He’s going through a tough time,” he was peering at him, as if he was suspicious of him, but Jongin had no idea why - it wasn’t like he was using mind control to make Junmyeon want to talk to him or anything. “Don’t take advantage of it.”

“I’d never-,”

“Just stay out of it if you don’t already know what’s going on. Okay?”

“Fine.”

Yuta gave him a final look of distrust before grabbing his bag and leaving without another word, but Jongin knew he couldn’t keep his promise. There was something really strange happening, and he didn’t have a good feeling about it. 

A buzz in his pocket. He jumped, fumbling about to grab and answer it, too eager to hear Junmyeon’s voice to even check the caller idea - thus, his heart sinking when it was just Taemin.

“Hi, hyung,” he said, sighing, letting his body relax a little bit. “I’m just done with the team for the day-,”

“Jongin, you don’t have a few days spare by any chance, do you?”

“Not typically, no.”

“Damn. I’m gonna be so bored.”

Jongin laughed. “Why? What do you want me for?”

“I have to go to Tokyo for a few days, but no one has any time to come with me, and it’s all just tour preparation… I need someone to hang out with.”

His heart stopped in his chest. Tokyo? “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I should have led with the fact it would be a mini holiday.”

“You should always lead with ‘Hey, wanna come to Japan?’ Especially if it’s tour prep. I’m your dance team leader, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I see the… whatever it is you’re approving?”

“Stage, props, that kind of thing.”

“I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for sticking by me <3  
> I shouldn't make promises because honestly, I said I'd update twice a week from now on but as of Monday I'm going through some personal issues (death in the family) and its gonna be a really crap few weeks for me so just... don't worry if I'm quiet, I'll be here writing for you guys when I can, when I need to for a distraction, but I gotta try be a real human being and be there for people for the next few days. im sowwwwyyy. I hope this adds excitement and intrigue and that you look forward to the next updates! we'll have jongin in the same place as junmyeon, we'll have jun and Yuta bumping heads, we'll learn a lot more about the watanabe family, and of course, we'll finally hear about junmyeon and sehuns breakup and see how sehun, chanbaek and the rest of the old gang are doing. 
> 
> don't be afraid to chat in the comments, I love hearing from yall! so much! <3 have you been listening to any good kpop lately? what comebacks are you excited for? i'm super excited for up10tion, fromis9, and treasure <3


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